Tag Archives: Crow Books

It was a real thrill to travel back to Western Australia last weekend, for a solid hit of poetry, courtesy of WA Poetry Inc. (WAPI). This was my second visit to the WA Poetry Festival, so it was great to catch up with friends and poets and to share the stage with Australian poetry pioneer TT O, and some fine WA Poets including the anti-poet Alan Boyd and the luminous Jaya Penelope (here’s the full program). I had the opportunity to do many readings, in some truly beautiful spaces; my favourites being Crow Books and the Moon Café, home of the mighty Perth Poetry Club. I also had the privilege of running two workshops with some really inspiring people. And although I may still be a little on the weary side, I have not yet lost that poetry glow!

Reading at the Perth Poetry Club

[photograph by Rose van Son]

Another highlight of the festival was our ginko through Queens Gardens. The rain and cold weather that dominated most of the weekend, could not dampen the spirit of Gary de Piazzi, Rose van Son and Meryl Manoy, so together, we walked, sat and dreamed big in the beautiful surroundings, penning some fine haiku in the process. Here’s a selection of poems from each of the poets to give you a snapshot of our Saturday morning…

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broken wing –
a stick in her side
unbalanced

*

red cannas
mother’s chiffon
pleated

Rose van Son

[photograph by Rose van Son]

bridge over water
I look on my reflection

*

siren
out wails the coot
water shimmers

Gary de Piazzi

Graham, Meryl, Rose and Gary

[photograph by Rose van Son]

kookaburras laugh at the watery sun

*

pyramid trellis
creeper climbs
to capstone

Meryl Manoy

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I want to say a big thank you to organisers, Karen Murphy, Chris Arnold, MarBucknell for taking such good care of all the poets; the crowds for turning up, braving the weather and making every poet feel welcome on the stage; and all of the other poets for their generosity of spirit. And I want to say a special thanks to festival organiser, Gary de Piazzi for his big-heartedness and for making his home, my home on the weekend…

Experiences like this are what keeps the poetry fires well and truly stoked.